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Poor Righteous Teachers - Miss Ghetto lyrics
Yo for truly we representing for the love of this (this is a love story) Yeah This one is dedicated to all my niggaz in central New Jerusalem All the brothers who picked up that ring after I put it down And took Miss Ghetto to be their unlawfully wedded wives Poor Righteous Teachers representing the nine It's like that and you don't stop She's like cocaine running around my brain Miss Ghetto be like cocaine, running around your brain I know some crack slingers, crack slingers and cracker shankers They soldier-train us, teaching their kids to murder strangers They live for danger, they express the "I a Nigga" Miss Ghetto got 'em dreaming of loot and Swiss bankers The finest weapons, packing tri-action Smith and Wessons Unlike the 80's, ladies packing 680's(?) The shit is crazy, but it's like the ghetto babies They gotta eat, so the streets provide the gravy I thought that maybe I could show them that other way G of Gods and Earths, resurrected through mental birth From death to life, teaching niggas of every type The wrongs and rights, to put an end to living trife The black man is God, the 12th jewel is thirteen The pursuit of it can make savages out of kings Cause blush, to live with these niggas is in a rush In God they trust, so they sell crack to us Lust for what whitey got and whitey has Can see your ass on pursuit to get cash To look thrash, to driving the latest jags To rock rags made by Italian fags See, I never meant to fall in love with this shit But Miss Ghetto you's a slut so I'm divorcing you bitch Bust it Chorus: I ain't marrying Miss Ghetto again First chance I get to bounce world life I'm bouncing (x2) She's like cocaine running around my brain (No matter how much loot I get I'm staying in the projects) (x2) Down in my gutter Just like others there's teenage mothers There's dying brothers, shooting out with one another They wanted badly, for sisters to call them Daddy To drive a Caddy, stories unheard by Dear Abby They're dressing flashy Can't be caught in fatigue khakis They're rocking cool G(?), versace and cold boots G These brothers do it for the love of the life But I refuse to fall twice and take Miss Ghetto to wife I used to sex her, bust my nut, get my cash real fast But that was all that she produced, I felt my life wouldn't last We used to go to New York, traffic guns of all sort When killing became sport street life became short I thought, "Are we junkies like these baseheads, Yo They addicted to the crack while we addicted to dough" For truly, I never meant to fall in love with this shit But Miss Ghetto you's a slut so I'm divorcing you bitch Bust it Chorus See, there go some niggas that I used to roll with Still on that crack and gun shit Endless pursuit to rush shit, bust it Miss Ghetto got 'em strung out on the putang cream That does up Wu-Tang fiends For slingin cocaine, dig it We used to do the bumper crack for the sex While making love to the checks, Miss Ghetto's steelo complex Living trifling, no matter where my life went Miss Ghetto, my new wife, went she made it more exciting Fighting, shooting out, doing all types dirt Being these, seeing G's putting in much work Word, we used to keep a sisters underwear laced With ganja and freebase and bo juice to parlay Flip! Me and my niggas ran the strip pushing dips Black cats and plastics, fucking the minds of black kids Till one day, I was confronted by this wise old chap He said, "I know you sell crack, but what, you out to kill blacks?" I wasn't trying to hear it, my excuse sorta weak I said that we gotta eat, that's why we running these streets Then he said, "Don't you know that whitey give you that coke, that bullshit pursuit of plush that got you killing your folk?" Life, I didn't understand that shit back then But now I do so I refuse to roll with whitey again Bust it I ain't marrying Miss Ghetto again First chance I get to bounce word life I'm bouncing, niggas. I ain't marrying Miss Ghetto again First chance I get to bounce word life I'm bouncing, niggas. Chorus x2 See Gods, you like cocaine, fucking with my brain You like cocaine, running around my brain For the love of this |
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